Never Thought We'd Be This Way
by atlaswhite
Summary: A series of short stories about the relationship between Gaston Lagaffe and Léon Prunelle, and the day-to-day chaos that is their life together. Gaston/Prunelle
1. An Unexpected Gesture

_Léon Prunelle & Gaston - An Unexpected Gesture_

"_Rrrrrrogntudjuuu!_"

The sound echoes through the halls of the Spirou office. Those who work at the Spirou office are very much used to it, but no matter how many times each day they hear it, they must always be ready for what it might mean- after all, when Léon Prunelle shouts "_Rogntudju_", it means somebody somewhere is in a _lot_ of trouble.

And this time, as usual, that somebody is Gaston.

Prunelle stands in his office, seething, his shoulders squared, his breathing rough and audible. There is a coffee stain on his white shirt, and the papers in his hands are ruined. He can't attend a meeting this way.

And Gaston, coffee mug in hand, doesn't look as lackadaisical as he usually does. Oddly enough, though, he doesn't look scared of the other man's wrath, either. He looks... _sorry_.

Hastily, Gaston puts down the mug on the desk and takes the papers from Prunelle's hands. He starts to shake them out, hoping they aren't lost completely.

Prunelle is just about to give him the earful of his life, finger raised, mouth open, when Gaston says, "Prunelle, I'm sorry."

Prunelle freezes. He looks stunned.

"You... what?" He says.

"I'm sorry?" Gaston repeats. He gets the paper as dry as it's gonna get before handing it back to Prunelle, who accepts them silently, flabbergasted.

Gaston contemplates the other man for a moment, then reaches forward and buttons Prunelle's jacket up to his chest.

"There." He says. "That'll hide the stain during your meeting. And I think your papers should still be legible, if nothing else."

And honestly Prunelle has nothing else to say- he finds he doesn't even feel angry anymore.

"But... but why?" He asks finally.

Gaston shrugs, a slow smile crosses his face. It's not exactly apologetic, but it doesn't seem like an unkind or mocking smile, either. It's very... _Gaston_. "It was just an accident, I guess."

And then he leaves. An enigma. But still a gaffer. He never does apologize, so why now?

Prunelle may not know for sure, but he does get a clue when he notices a red rose tucked in the pocket of his jacket that surely hadn't been there before. He takes it out and examines it thoughtfully- doesn't sniff it because it'd just make him sneeze- and then looks out the door Gaston left through. Prunelle can hardly believe it. "_M'enfin_," he says.

An enigma indeed.


	2. Jellybeans

_Léon Prunelle & Gaston Lagaffe - Jellybeans_

Prunelle is the kind of man who prefers to keep work and pleasure distinctly separate. At the office, he is all take charge, get things done, hold meetings and ensure that everything is going (relatively) smoothly. He does smile, but it isn't seen as much as everyone else's- though that's mostly because of the stress.

It's really only after hours or on week-ends that he can be seen playing sports, listening to music, or enjoying nature. Some would be quite surprised to see how laid-back he can actually be when work and Gaston aren't busy stressing him out and pushing him rapidly toward going prematurely gray.

So it's a surprise to see him sitting at his desk, munching contentedly from a small brown bag as he studies one long and wordy paper after another. He seems pretty happy- there's the faint sign of a smile on his lips, but it's clearer in his chocolate-brown eyes.

"What are you eating?" Lebrac asks, as he comes into the office to deliver a few illustrations.

"Ah?" Prunelle pauses, looks up from his work. "Jellybeans."

Lebrac sets the illustrations on Prunelle's desk and tips his head to one side. "You're eating jellybeans? At work?"

Prunelle chuckles. "Well, yes. Gaston gave them to me. They're just... well, they're _addictive_."

Lebrac laughs. "Well, there are the _urgent_ illustrations you requested so _urgently_. Um, enjoy your jellybeans."

Prunelle waves him away in a playful mock dismissal. He can say what he wants. Léon Prunelle does not mix business with pleasure, even in such a very small way. He just enjoys jellybeans, and they were a gift from Gaston, so it really just seems right.

This is what he thinks as he pops another small handful into his mouth and starts to look over the illustrations. The jellybeans have so many flavors... Rather like Gaston, actually. Sometimes he is lazy, and so frustrating. Sometimes he is selfish, and doesn't consider what other people think. But usually he is inventive and bright, looking for ways to improve what he sees as wrong with the world. Gaston thinks about nature, thinks about animal rights and human rights, about inventions that he imagines could do some good.

Gaston has a kind of after-hours side to him, too, and it makes Prunelle appreciate all those qualities he has about him, all those charming quirks and how wonderfully passionate he gets about the rights of other living things. When they aren't at work, he and Prunelle are usually together these days, and learning more and more about that other side each other has when they leave the _Spirou_ office each evening. And, in truth, it's starting to affect the way they behave when they _are_ at work.

It's starting to make Prunelle do things like eat jellybeans at his desk.


	3. The Editor and the Spy

Prunelle détournée de Gaston dans les bras dangereuses d'autre homme qu'il a juste découvre était l'espion envoyé pour le séduire, et voler les secrets de son organisation, code-nommé _«Spirou»_. Le déguisement de l'homme plus de jeune comme un garçon du bureau était si parfait, leur romance bien apparemment réel, Prunelle ne jamais a suspecta.

Il était sûr Gaston allait l'empaler avec son couteau lorsque il le prendra immobile, et il peut seulement espère que la mort serait vite.

Gaston regardé les yeux de Prunelle pour un moment, puis, soudain, jeté le couteau sur le fond, avec son alliances à tout qui serait blesser Prunelle- et tenit secret son choix avec un baise ferme.

Prunelle turned away from Gaston in the other man's dangerous arms, having just discovered that he was the spy sent to seduce him, and steal the secrets of his organization, codenamed _"Spirou"_. The younger man's disguise as a lazy office boy had been so perfect, their romance so seemingly heartfelt, Prunelle never would have suspected.

He was sure that Gaston would now skewer him with his knife as he held him still, and he could only hope death would be quick.

Gaston looked into Prunelle's eyes for a moment, then suddenly threw the knife to the ground, along with his alliances to anyone who would hurt Prunelle- and sealed his choice with a firm kiss.


	4. Waking Up

_Léon Prunelle & Gaston Lagaffe - Waking Up_

Prunelle wakes up early, and Gaston does not. They have different habits, both at work and at home. It's kind of funny, they're such different people, but it's said that opposites attract, and they certainly seem to prove that.

Prunelle sits up sleepily and reaches for his glasses, takes them off the nightstand. His thick black hair is a mess, and his body is reluctant to be pulled out of the nice, warm bed. Next to him, there is a form, loudly snoring- Gaston, of course.

With his glasses on, he turns and looks at the wild black hair on the pillow next to his- so much of it that he can hardly see Gaston's face, except for that big nose and the goofy smile beneath it. Even asleep, he looks totally at ease with the whole world and everything in it.

Prunelle chuckles to himself at the sight. Silly thing- how did Gaston ever manage to worm his way in with him this way, all cozy under his covers and satisfied with himself?

Gently, he leans down and presses a kiss into the mess of hair. However he managed, here they are. Totally mismatched, but completely happy together.


	5. Having Faith in Fools

_Léona Prunelle & Gaston Lagaffe - Having Faith in Fools _

Léona Prunelle was a strong and outgoing woman, and worked hard to earn her position as editor-in-chief at the _Spirou_ magazine. She had never wanted or needed a man by her side. Oh, she'd tried dating here and there, but so far, if a relationship started to get too serious, her suitors would usually become distasteful of her position and her complete dedication to work. Usually it was just hints, but, once or twice, there's been the ultimatum, "work or me". And so she has remained single.

At least, until now she has. The change came after that well-known gaffer Gaston Lagaffe took an interest in his boss. He first made it known by leaving a bouquet of colorful wild flowers on her desk, signed '_an admirer_' in a scrawled, sloppy handwriting that Prunelle knew all too well.

She ignored them; threw them away and didn't say a word about them. But Gaston either didn't realize she'd ignored them or didn't care, because he went right on trying to court her, and Prunelle was too puzzled at first to know just what to do about it.

The flowers were only the beginning- next, Gaston left chocolates on her desk with a note identical to the first. Prunelle was rather torn about this gift, because those chocolates looked pretty tasty. Eventually, she decided to keep the gift and throw the note away, though this was probably counter-productive... at least Gaston had not tried to make the chocolates by hand. They were actually really good.

After that, Gaston made a mail-sorting robot, which was apparently some kind of well-meaning gesture based on the fact that Prunelle had told him that it was the only kind of invention she had wanted to see him make. That had been in response to a previous dreadful mess of a machine he had wanted to show her, not an invitation. Of course, in the end, Gaston is Gaston, so how else was he going to take a statement like that?

"See? Just like you asked." Gaston said proudly.

"This is not at all like I asked." Prunelle said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, just give it a shot, anyway?" Gaston pressed hopefully. Without waiting for Prunelle's approval, he turned the infernal thing on.

She was almost impressed when it started to do its job correctly, but of course this did not last. Before long, it was devouring the mail and spitting out shreds that flew everywhere like confetti, and Prunelle was tugging at her hair and shrieking, "_Rogntudju! _Shut it off, shut it off _now_, Gaston!"

Gaston grabbed the machine and tried to switch it off, but it seemed to have developed a mind of its own at this point, as it grabbed him back with the skinny metallic arms it used for sorting.

Prunelle snatched off one of her heels, charged up heroically, and stopped it from trying to shred Gaston's jumper by beating it viciously with her shoe. With the metal monster dented and ruined, Gaston dislodged himself from its grasp and looked at the editor.

"I don't know what went wrong." He said, legitimately confused by his lack of success.

Prunelle sighed at length, and put her shoe back on. "I don't, either." She said curtly.

"Back to the old drawing board, I guess." Gaston said with a shrug. He fixed his jumper and sat back down at his desk. "Sorry about that, Prunelle. The next one will surely work."

Prunelle turned away toward the door. "Somehow," she said, "I doubt that.

The next thing Gaston tried was leaving a poem on her desk that he had written himself. It, too, was signed _an admirer_, and it too was thrown away- but not before Prunelle had given it one quick read-over, and groaned out loud as he made _three_ plays on her surname. Amazing how he managed to not only make an awkward attempt to compliment her eyes (twice), but also make a reference to the sour fruit by the same name. And _compare her_ to said sour fruit.

After that, more flowers. These were strewn _all over_ her office, and they set off her allergies. She spent the whole afternoon alternating between sneezing and cursing until she managed to _sneeze_, "_rogntudjuuu_"_. _She did this at least a dozen times.

The final straw was the very forward recital of a song which, like his little poem, he had written himself. It was more or less the same as the poem, but with some of the lines switched around and more added, and set to something sort of resembling a tune. He sang this outside her apartment building while playing his old guitar.

Prunelle shut the window. She had had enough of being courted.

The next day, she avoided Gaston- at least, until that evening, after work. In front of the building, she approached him at last, stopping him before he could get to his car. She had a question of great importance for him.

"Gaston, what are you doing?" She asked. "Why should you be interested in me?"

Gaston smiled his lazy smile and replied, "Well, why not? You're a beautiful lady, and you're really smart. I like you a lot, Prunelle."

Prunelle ran a hand through her long, unruly hair, exasperated. "That... but Gaston, I just don't think a relationship is a good idea for me, what with work and all."

Gaston kept on smiling, and he took her free hand in both of his own much larger hands in a reassuring gesture. "I'm sure you can do both, Prunelle. You're a really capable person, y'know? I mean, if you really think you can't, that'd be one thing, but I know you can, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Prunelle couldn't help but laugh. What simple, steadfast logic! "Both, then?" She tried.

"Of course," Gaston said, and he was still holding her hand. "No problem for the editor-in-chief, right? So what do you say?"

Prunelle took a moment to think it over, but the answer was pretty clear. Despite herself, she decided to have a little faith, and take a chance. "Alright, I'll give it a shot."

Gaston's whole face lit up. "Great! I promise you won't regret it. I'm gonna do everything I can to make you happy, okay?"

Prunelle gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm sure. Well, why don't you start with some of that _late mail_, hmm?"

Gaston tipped his head to one side, and that wild hair of his scatters across his face. "Well, I'll try. But I'm not so sure I can handle work _and_ a relationship the way you can." He says cleverly, his smile taking on a truly mischievous quality.

Prunelle leaned close to his face, grinning meaningfully. "Well, you'd better learn, Lagaffe, because you just promised to make me happy."

Gaston straightened up his back, and for a moment, Prunelle was surprised at just how _tall_ he was, when he wasn't slouching. He had to have several inches over her, easy. "I'll do my very best." He said. "But I won't make any more promises."

And Prunelle laughed, because she already had a feeling that somehow, her faith in this man is really going to pay off.


End file.
